


I'm caught on your coat again

by claveldelaire



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Confessions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claveldelaire/pseuds/claveldelaire
Summary: "Steve is starting to feel at ease near Javier, more comfortable than he felt before. They spend so much time together that Steve has a mental list with discoveries he has made from Javi."
Relationships: Connie Murphy/Steve Murphy (Narcos), Steve Murphy & Javier Peña, Steve Murphy/Javier Peña
Comments: 62
Kudos: 91





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello again!
> 
> It is planned to be a two chapters story, but who knows?

They have done this before, one coming to the other's desk, sitting on the edge of it, having conversations nobody should hear. The one in the chair sitting straight to be closer to the other, and the one at the rim of the desk hunching forward just to be sure nobody comes between them, it's not like anyone would dare, anyway.

They've been working late these days, reading over and over transcriptions of phone calls between alleged sicarios, looking for clues, for some path to follow. Two weeks before Steve would have been anxious to finish, to get home and to feel like an average man that has just ended his shift in his average job. But now, overworking not only serves him as a distraction but as a way to avoid being home more than the few hours he needs to sleep (although he's hardly sleeping these days) and take a shower.

Javier is with him, rummaging absently through the pages of a file with his feet perched on the desk. Steve shakes his head in an attempt to erase the thought of Javier practically hasn't abandoned his side since Connie left. Nothing too much, never asking questions but always a solid presence near him. Steve shakes his head again, must be a coincidence, Peña isn't the kind of person who acts motherly towards anyone.

It's almost eight in the evening, the Embassy is almost empty, the sound of the elevators is the only signal that there is somebody apart from them because they're alone on that floor. Javier stretches his legs over his desk and gets up, stretching some more. He surrounds their desks and sits on the edge of Steve's desk. Steve looks at him, waiting for what he has to say but Javier just fishes a cigarette from the box he has in his shirt pocket and lights it without looking at him. Steve returns his eyes to the transcription he's reading for the third time and Javier just smokes beside him. When he's done, he pats Steve on the shoulder and gets back to his chair, sinking his nose in the same file he's been working all day.

Steve has always wondered how Javier does it. How does he survive being alone? How does he cope with an empty house? Steve has been asking himself these same questions since they became friends, yet the answer is pretty clear. Javier's never alone, he always has company, he spends almost every night learning a new body and when he isn't, he's drunk and sleeping the lonely nights away. This is the first time Steve wishes to be a little more like Javi.

For Steve, seems like Javier has his life sorted. He doesn't depend on anyone, let alone a woman to have his everyday life complete as Steve does. Just to clarify, Steve is a completely functional adult, he knows how to do the most of the house chores, he actually enjoys cooking and sweeping the floors, but is the feeling of being taken care of what he misses the most. He misses how Connie always picked the softest bed sheets and how she always kept a vase full of flowers on the coffee table because it reminded her of her childhood home. Javier would never have that sort of problem, thinks Steve, he takes care of himself and his daily life is not disturbed by coming home and not finding his favourite brand of mustard in the fridge, because if he wants things to be in a particular way, he just moves his ass from the couch and makes it happen.

It seems Javier has made a habit out of sitting on the edge of Steve's desk for no reason at all. Sometimes he offers Steve a cigarette but at other times he isn't even smoking, just sits there and eyes the papers Steve is working on. Most of the times he pats Steve on the shoulder before walking away.

Last night Steve didn't sleep at all, turning over and over, arranging his pillow, closing his eyes, counting sheep, without any success. He heard Javier’s car arriving at about 4 am and he snorted.  _ Lucky bastard _ .

He arrives at the office early, makes his coffee sugary as he likes it and starts filling out forms. Javier makes it to work surprisingly early considering the time he arrived home last night. He doesn't look too sleep-deprived as you might expect for someone who has slept less than four hours. Javi hangs his jacket on the back of his chair like any other day, everything feels normal until Javier crosses the room and sits on the edge of Steve's desk to drink Steve's coffee. Steve knows as a fact that he and Javi don't have the same taste in coffee so he's surprised when his co-worker drinks almost the entire cup without pulling a face.

Later that day, he is sitting behind Javier's desk, next to him, both eyeing a new transcription Trujillo handed them. More of the same old shit. Steve stretches his body back on the chair, self-conscious that his polo shirt lets part of his tummy and hips at sight. He doesn't care, he has done that a million times, but this time, while he's yawning, Javier hits him in the ribs with a rolled newspaper, making him shrink in his place.

"What?" he asks, alarmed.

"Nothing," Javier says without looking at him.

"Hey, can I come in? Are you alone?" Steve asks one night when Javier opens his apartment’s door.

"Of course," Javier answers and Steve tries not to think about Javier's tone, like it was obvious he would be alone on a Friday night.

"Listen, I've run out of sugar for my tea, do you have any?" Steve shows off his cup and Javier looks at him, suspicious. "It seems sugar and other kitchen supplies don't appear magically into my cabinets and it's too late to go out and buy some," Steve feels the need to explain himself.

"Sure," Javier doesn't seem convinced at all.

He sits at the kitchen bar while Javi hands him a metal jar with printed letters "AZÚCAR". Nice detail.

Javier brings a plate of spaghetti from the coffee table where he apparently was eating and sits at the opposite end of the bar. Steve stirs his tea.

"Did you eat?" Javier asks, nonchalantly.

"I- No I don't. I mean, I don't usually-"

Javier shakes his head at that and produces a plate from under the bar, splitting his meal in two.

"Here we have real dinner, not just some tea," he says, putting it in front of Steve.

"Oh, thanks but I'm not that hungry, tea helps me to sleep better," he refuses Javi's offer, pushing the pasta aside.

"Okay," Javier says and keeps eating.

Steve likes that about Javier, he never insists, he never annoys, he just says whatever comes to his mouth but he says it just once.

"Well, it smells nice," Steve acknowledges, leaning into the meal.

"Must be the homemade sauce," Javier announces, shrugging.

Steve arches his brows.

"Did you make it?" he asks, bringing the spaghetti closer and smelling it.

"Why are you surprised?"

"Not surprised, just didn't know you knew how to cook."

"What did you think I usually ate? Just tea?"

"No, I-"

"Stop explaining yourself," Javier snorts.

"Now I want to try it," Steve says.

"Be my guest."

The pasta and the sauce are so good Steve ends up eating the whole thing.

"That was very good, actually," Steve concedes. "I'm sorry I stole half of your dinner," he chuckles.

"No problem at all, do you want some fruit for dessert?" Javier offers, getting up. "Stop making that face, Murphy! Did you really think I only ate hot dogs and cereal?"

"I don't want to say yes but..."

Javier hits him softly in the head as he goes to the fridge.

"Do you want an apple or not, cabrón?"

"Don't call me that," Steve whines. "Do you have red apples?"

"Only greens," informs Javi with his head inside of the fridge. "It's the same."

"No, it's not. I don't like the green ones because they're too acid."

"You're such a baby," Javi mocks him. He leans against the kitchen bar next to Steve, cutting the apple with a knife. Steve plays with the fork. Javi hands him a slice of green apple he's holding between his finger and the knife. Steve looks at him, Javier arches a brow and Steve can notice how hard he's trying not to smile.

"Fuck," Steve says and takes the slice. It tastes strong but not as bad as he remembers it. Maybe he is a baby.

"Another?" Javi offers, and Steve hasn't noticed he has been watching him the whole time as he swallows.

Steve shrugs and Javier laughs.

How come now Javi has fruit in the fridge and he cooks pasta? Why did Steve never know about that? What else does Javi do that Steve doesn't know about? Does he do his own laundry? Did he choose the furniture himself? Does he make his bed? Now Steve feels useless.

"Here you have," Javier says one morning as he puts a paper bag on Steve's desk.

"What is this?" he asks surprised because he didn't ask Javi to bring him something.

"Don't you have hands and eyes to check for yourself?" scoffs Javier, taking a seat on his place.

Steve peeks inside the bag and there is a ham sandwich. He looks at Javi.

"I can't stand one more day of you having tea and rice crackers for lunch," he explains.

Steve feels offended.

"Well, thank you for being so thoughtful, I suppose," Steve says and rolls his eyes.

Truth is Steve is genuinely grateful by Javi's gesture. He doesn't bother to go out and buy lunch anymore because he isn't hungry lately and some tea and crackers work well with his stomach. He knows it isn't healthy but he no longer enjoys cooking as he used to when he lived with Connie. Cooking for just one person it's not fun at all, if not lame. So he gets an idea.

Next Sunday morning, Steve first checks in the garage if Javier's car is there and then he knocks on his door. Javier is only wearing a wrinkled cotton t-shirt and his underwear. He's barefoot and his hair is ruffled.

"What happened?" he asks with a husky voice.

"Is it a bad time?" Steve asks, peering inside, no traces of a woman's belongings at sight.

"I was just sleeping, Murphy, did something happen?" Peña seems grumpy.

"No, just- I made a lasagna, wondered if you want some?"

Javi rubs his eyes and his face softens.

"Bring it then," he says and goes inside, leaving the door ajar.

Steve runs to his flat and gets back fifteen minutes later with the hot meal. Javi's door is closed now. He opens it when Steve calls. It seems he has fallen asleep again on the couch while Steve has gone to his house.

"I thought you would dress up for me," Steve jokes.

"Shut up and feed me, Murphy," Javier grunts. "It's too early to be up on a Sunday."

"It's almost two in the afternoon, Peña. Wild night, huh?"

"You can't imagine," Javi says, rolling his eyes. "Why are you here?"

"I told you, I made a lasagna and it ended up being too much for me."

"That's because you've made lasagna for... Six people at least," Javier says, looking at the platter.

"Please forgive me, I don't have all this 'living alone' thing sorted yet," Steve pleads ironically.

Javier sets the table still in his underwear and t-shirt and they both eat in silence.

"This was so good it almost made up for waking me on a Sunday," Javi says, dropping himself on the couch. "There are red apples in the fridge if you want one," he announces.

"You buy red apples now? Maybe later," Steve says as he puts the dishes in the sink.

"Mmm, later? Are you staying for a nap?" Javier jokes and Steve clear his throat.

They sit together in front of the television for a while and Steve's full stomach starts to make him feel sleepy. He yawns.

"I was joking about the nap, but you can stay if you want, I'll take the couch, it's comfortable," Javier says.

Steve's ears turn red and he hopes Javi doesn't notice. He rubs his tummy over the polo shirt.

"Don't worry, pal. I need to clean all the pots I left in my house and then maybe I'll take a nap."

"Whatever," Javier says, covering himself with a blanket and getting comfy on the couch.

Steve's Monday morning starts with Javi leaving him an apple on his desk.

"You didn't come back later," it's the only explanation he receives.

Steve could use their new silent agreement and sit on Javi's desk edge to eat it. And he does.

Days and weeks start to go by and they keep dancing around each other. There are subtle touches and a lot of shared personal space. They share the coffee cup more often than not, as well as they share the cigarettes, the lamp between their desks, the apples, and sometimes they even steal food from each other's plate.

Steve is starting to feel at ease near Javier, more comfortable than he felt before. They spend so much time together that Steve has a mental list with discoveries he has made from Javi. He likes to wake up early on weekdays, he does his own laundry and folds neatly all his clothes, he makes good pasta and even a better steak. He eats a lot of fruits, really, a lot. He sleeps with his socks on (don't ask Steve how he found that information), he isn't very fond of combing his hair and when he's at home, he's one pretty fun drunk. Steve's favourite discovery is that Javi is very tactile: when he's comfortable, mostly at his own home but sometimes when they share a car ride, he's always touching Steve, a pat on the leg or on the shoulder, he sits so close to Steve on the couch that their shoulders and knees always touch.

It's Saturday night and Steve ends in Javi's apartment once more. They have dinner at the kitchen bar and then move to the sofa, in front of the TV. It has been a rough week, Carrillo is back with his usual working methods and both of them are exhausted mentally and physically. Javier opens two beers and they keep going, then some whisky and they finish their night with one tequila each one. Well, that's not how they end their night, they end it falling asleep together on the couch. Javi gets in a comfortable position and just so happens that Steve also gets comfortable with the side of his face smashed against Javi's ribs. Both wake up in the morning all sore for their weird position (which included one of Javi's arms around Steve's shoulders). None of them says a word about it and they eat breakfast in silence.

And just as Steve starts feeling like a balloon is swelling inside his chest, it blows up. Connie is back.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, welcome back!
> 
> I know I said it would be just two chapters but it will be three!

Steve is back home from a particularly rough day of work, he's pouring himself a glass of whiskey and thinking of going downstairs and crashing on Javi's couch once again (he has done that already three times this week and Javier doesn't seem bothered, on the contrary, he wakes up to a delicious smell of coffee every time he sleeps over there). And then, Connie is in the dining room, partially hidden in the shadows projected by the dim orange lights from the street.

He's happy to see her, happier than he thought he could be, and relieved. As soon as he is between her arms, the last weeks become a bad dream, all the loneliness and the never-ending nights seem far away now his head is resting on her chest. She smells familiar, she smells like home to him. And he cries, he cries like has never done before.

Steve doesn't go to Javier's apartment that night. He clings himself to the idea that he has his life back, but soon into the night he realises that's not what is happening. Connie is there out of concern, she's there because she heard the fear in his voice through the phone two nights ago. It's so painfully obvious she isn't staying long, judging by the small suitcase she brought and the fact she left Olivia with her sister back in Miami. Steve doesn't ask for how long she will be there, he doesn't want to know at all.

They go to bed and Connie soothes him to sleep. They don't have sex that night, Steve can't pay attention to anything at the moment and she doesn't ask for it either. Despite finally having his wife beside him in their bed he can't sleep that night. Connie breathes softly next to his shoulder and he cries as silently as he can. He's fucked. All the improvements he has made living alone are lost now. He knows how much it will take for him to be alone again after she's gone. He's sad in advance. No, not sad, he realises he's desperate. He wants her to leave, now, immediately. He wants to be alone again, he doesn't want to depend on someone again.

"Hey, are you okay?" Connie asks. He hasn't noticed she is awake and doesn't know how much of his breakdown she has seen. "You're crying again."

He turns to his side, hugs her and hides his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'll be okay, don't worry."

They have sex in the morning. Connie, as always, is sweet and tender and he tries his best to keep up with her. They don't talk during breakfast, the television is too loud for them to have a conversation and Connie doesn't insist. Steve's mind is elsewhere. Not far, though.

When Connie walks him to the building door to say goodbye, they meet Javier on his way to the garage. He clears his throat and hugs Connie.

"Do you want a ride?" Steve offers Javier, as he often does.

"I can't today, man. I have things to do after work but thank you," he apologises and hugs Connie again before heading to his car.

The day at work is the busiest they have had in months. Javi and Steve are assigned to different raids so they don't share much time alone. Steve feels the need to apologise even though he's not sure what for.

That night, when Steve falls in a restless sleep, Javi hasn't come home yet.

"Connie wants us to have dinner with you tomorrow, would you like?" Steve asks shyly the next day.

"Sure, do I have to bring anything in particular?" Javier asks, rummaging through the drawers, without looking at him.

"Nah, I don't think so," Steve says and stops in his tracks before leaving the office. "Are you okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Javier says, his voice is composed but he is still rummaging between files, not looking specifically at anything.

Steve shakes his head and leaves.

He and Connie have dinner out that night, they go to a fancy restaurant and spend thousands of Colombian pesos on fancy food but Steve wishes he was eating pasta back in Javi's apartment. He tries to focus on the moment, he doesn't want to fail Connie, but at the same time, he finds himself thinking of what is the point if she's leaving again in four days.

Later that night, when they're both naked in bed, and Connie's back is resting against his chest, he decides that he will try to convince her to stay there. She could go back to Miami, pick Olivia up and go back to Colombia, they could be happy as they were before.

But the next morning, he can't. He can't ask Connie to come back, he knows Escobar's situation has worsened since Connie left, so, if she came back, she wouldn't be safe or comfortable in Bogotá. Plus, he doesn’t want to erase all the baby steps he has been making in the opposite direction.

Javi knocks the door at the agreed time and brings a bottle of wine with him. That's the first signal that something is off, Steve knows he has always preferred whiskey or beer over wine, but he doesn't say a word about it.

They eat the delicious grilled chicken Connie has made and she's the only one trying to have a conversation with both of them. There are almost no words exchanged between the two men. Javier pricks the fries one by one while he vaguely updates Connie on Escobar's case. She invites him for dessert but he excuses himself saying he has a commitment after dinner and Steve can't help the pang across his stomach. Connie wants to know who he is dating but Steve interrupts the conversation before Javier could answer because he doesn't need to know. He doesn't want to know.

Steve walks Javi to the door and is tempted to ask who he will see tonight but he makes his best effort to restrain himself from breaking his own heart some more. Usually, Javi would have hugged him, or at least patted him on the shoulder but it's just a nod and a 'goodbye' this time. Steve closes the door and rests his forehead against it.

"I'm happy Javi's seeing someone," says Connie when they're eating ice-cream for dessert. Once again he turned the TV sound up immediately after Javier left. "But he seemed a bit off," she speaks louder.

Steve shrugs, licking the spoon.

"What happened? He barely talked to you through the night," she inquiries.

"I don't know, Connie. It's Javi, okay? Nothing new if he's acting mysteriously."

"You're hurting me," whimpers Connie later that night when they're having sex. Steve realises he has been biting Connie's shoulder so hard he has broken her skin.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, kissing the spot he has just hurt and moves inside her.

"Steve, stop," she complains after a moment. "We don't have to- You know-"

"What? Why?"

"You seem off, your head is not here," and Steve could argue, but she's right.

"I'm sorry I can't keep up with you," he spits, getting off of her.

Connie covers herself with the sheets.

"You know I wasn't talking about that, but now you bring it up, you have been acting weird in bed since I got back," she says, offended.

"Weird how, huh?" he fires back.

"You know, not like before."

"Look, Connie, if you liked the things as they were before, you shouldn't have left. But guess what? You did it! And now nothing is the same around here," he doesn't give her the chance to answer, he puts his jeans and he leaves the room and the house, putting on his t-shirt. His feet are taking him to Javi's apartment and he's banging on his door before he can even remember Javier had said he had a commitment a few hours ago.

Javier is wearing only his underwear when he opens his door.

"What?" He barks.

"Let me sleep on your couch," he asks.

"Already taken, pal," Javier says and moves from the door to Steve to see a girl covered with a blanket.

"Fuck." Steve hits the wall next to him with his fist.

"¿Qué pasa, Javi?" the girl asks from the couch. Javier doesn't answer.

Steve turns around and rushes to his house.

He's still sleeping on his own couch when he's awakened by a loud noise. He sits up, disoriented.

"I'm heading to the airport," Connie announces. The loud noise is coming from the wheels of her suitcase. "Do you want to say goodbye, or?"

"What?" He asks, rubbing his eyes, still unfocused. "You said you were staying until next Wednesday."

"I guess I've changed my plans," she says, still holding the suitcase.

"Connie..."

"Look, Steve. I totally understand the situation at your work has worsened since I left but nothing gives you the right to treat me like you have done." 

"Connie, I'm so sorry about last night, I lost my train of-"

She interrupts him with a gesture and sits next to him on the couch.

"Not only that, you have barely spoken to me, you don't even listen to me above the sound of the TV, which you don't pay attention either."

He doesn't have a valid answer to give her, so he sighs.

"I love you, Steve, but I can't with this. I don't want to live like this, let alone drag Olivia into this hell," Connie says, patting his knee.

"Okay, I get it, you're right," he says, resigned. "Let me drive you to the airport, please."

"I've already called a taxi," she says. "I still have a couple of minutes left. Is there something you want to tell me?"

He doesn't take a moment to weigh Connie's words.

"I love you too, okay? I'm just frustrated and feel lost all the time. I'm so sorry to have dragged you to this. I'm so sorry I charged you with Olivia's responsibility. I am very, very sorry, Connie."

"Oh no, Olivia was a joint decision, I wanted her too and I'm not blaming you for bringing her to my life. I'm so happy to have her, and I think she's doing well with me," Connie says and her face softens.

"Can I kiss you before you go?" Steve asks, tentatively.

Connie smiles.

"No way that you kiss me after I'm gone," she jokes and leans into him.

Steve puts both hands on her cheeks and kisses her. It's not hot, not even remotely sexy, but it's tender and it's all Steve needs for now. They kiss until there is a car honking outside. She pecks him one last time and runs to the window to make a signal for the taxi driver to wait.

Steve gets up from the couch and hugs her on her way to the door.

"I wish it was different," he whispers.

"It's okay," she says, disentangling from him. "Oh, and Steve? Work it out with Javi, please, he also seemed off, you know?" And those are her last words before living and leaving Steve drowning in a burning hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? Did you like it?
> 
> What do you think it will happen next chapter?
> 
> Please stay tuned and leave a comment if you liked it! ♥♥


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember when I said this will be just three chapters? Well, guess I lied.

Steve goes to his bedroom and drops himself face down on the bed, smelling Connie in the pillow she used. He wishes he had spent their last night together sleeping beside her instead of being such a drama queen and hoping Javier would be waiting for him with open arms.

Speaking of the devil, Steve relives the moment Javi opened his door last night. A pang crosses his chest. The woman most probably naked under the blanket, Javi almost naked too. They were sleeping on the couch, the same couch Steve usually spends his weeknights, the same couch where they slept together once.

He huffs. Javier doesn't owe him a fucking thing. He's the one who's married just to start and then, he remembers he doesn't have any kind of romantic relationship with Javi. They haven't even flirted. They're close, it's true, but they have always been closer, Javi being his first and only friend in Colombia and Steve being one of the few people that keep up with Javi's shit.

He wants to cry, and maybe he does. He falls asleep again and when he wakes up he pours himself a whiskey and keeps drinking until he falls asleep again. On Monday morning, he supposes they're not catching Escobar today, so he calls sick to the Embassy and spends the day drinking, eating chip's leftovers and watching blankly at the TV.

He has dozed off on his couch when someone knocks on his door. He stays still, waiting for the person to leave but it knocks again. He tries to fix his hair before opening the door.

It is Javier.  _ Fuck _ .

"Come in," Steve invites him.

"What's up?" Javi asks, standing in the middle of the room.

"Sorry I couldn't make it to work today, I'm not feeling well," Steve explains, dropping himself on the couch again.

"I wonder why," Javier says, looking around at the mess of bottles and cans and glasses.

"Connie left, again," Steve informs him, lighting a cigarette.

"I know," Javi states. "She called me today from Miami, said I should check on you."

"You're such a good nanny," Steve scoffs.

Javier doesn't answer, he lifts his brows and takes a seat at the dining table, probably the farthest point from Steve he finds. He also lights a cigarette.

"Listen, Steve, I don't want to ask why did she come back and what happened between you this time. The only thing that matters to me is that you don't fall in that pit again, okay?"

"I am not your responsibility, Javi," Steve fires back.

"It feels like you are, you know?" He drags the cigarette before continuing. "Showing up at my house at the crack hours, hitting the wall when you see I'm busy, I don't know, it feels a lot like I'm involved in this."

Steve doesn't have the courage to elaborate an answer, so Javier keeps talking after a moment of silence.

"You can't have it all, Steve, did you know?"

"What do you mean?" Steve Is sitting straight now, but Javi is far away and is not looking at him.

"Connie, and me. Your house, and mine."

Steve laughs mockingly.

"I don't have Connie, obviously,"  _ and I don't have you either judging by last night _ , he wants to add but stops himself.

"She was here," Javier says.

"She came out of concern after what Carrillo did in the helicopter. I can count on her but it doesn't mean I have her," he spits.

"How so?" Javier asks, still not looking at him.

Steve has never been one of those people that go telling details about his private life but he supposes he can make an exception with Javi.

"I don't know how to be with her any more if you know what I mean, I already didn't know how to do it the last months before she left. Plus, she doesn't want to come back, she's happy in Miami, she's safe there."

They both remain silent, dragging their cigarettes. The tension is palpable with the things that they haven't said.

"Steve," Javi says after what seemed an eternity.

"What?"

"Get a shower, clean this mess and let's go out to have dinner."

"I'm not hungry, Peña."

"I can tell you haven't eaten solid food in at least a day, so if you don't want to go out, I'm calling a delivery," he announces. "And you need a shower and your house needs some fresh air."

They go to an inn Javi knows the owner of. They eat steak with mashed potatoes and if Steve closes his eyes, the last week didn't happen. Javier updates him on the case but they don't talk about personal matters.

On their way home, Javier palms Steve's knee.

"You can count on me, I don't need to remind you every week."

And Steve could just be a grateful friend and thank the gesture but he can't help being a little bitch.

"Just not at night, haha," he tries to sound funny but he's bitter.

"Counting on me doesn't mean I need to be a nun, Murphy," Javi brushes it off.

"If I can, you could," Steve jokes, only he can't mask off his jealousy.

"C'mon," Javier laughs. "You had your wife for almost a week."

"I told you, we haven't- I mean, we did it but we haven't- I wasn't- You know..."

Javier laughs at his stuttering.

"How could I know? You didn't say anything."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Steve says, looking out of the car window.

It's still early in the night when they get back home, Steve heads to his apartment but Javier grabs him by his forearm.

"Do you want to come and talk?" he invites.

"We have been talking all night, Javi," Steve excuses himself. All he wants is to pour himself some whiskey and be alone. He convinces himself that the flash of disappointment that crosses Javier's face is a product of his imagination. 

"Okay," Javier sighs. "Are you going to work tomorrow?"

"I suppose, I can't risk losing my job too," Steve says.

"Well, goodnight, then," Javier says, letting Steve's arm go.

They part ways until Steve turns around in the middle of the stairs.

"Javi, do you have any apples?" He asks from the darkness and hears Javier chuckling.

"Always."

Steve goes down the stairs quickly.

"Can I have one?" Steve asks and he has never been so nervous asking for a damn fruit.

"No," Javier says but makes a gesture for Steve to enter his house. "Take a seat," he invites, pointing to the sofa but Steve takes a stool near the kitchen bar. Javier seems to understand and rolls his eyes.

"I cleaned it, if that's what worries you," Javier says without even flinching. "Do you want beer or whiskey?"

"I thought you said you have apples?"

Javier puts a red apple on the bar between them and opens a beer.

"You buy red apples now," Steve notices.

"And the green ones too," Javier adds.

"Can I have a green one then?"

"Of course," Javier says and with fake enthusiasm he walks to the fridge. "Are you sure you don't want a beer?"

"Already have one," says Steve, having a sip from the bottle Javier left unattended thirty seconds earlier. Javier huffs but doesn't grab another bottle. Steve supposes sharing a bottle is a good signal. "What did you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, Connie told me to check if you were okay," Javier shrugs.

"I'm sorry she got you involved," Steve explains as he bites the apple. Its sour taste quickly invades his mouth and makes him pull a face.

Javier opens his mouth to speak but closes it again and takes the beer bottle from Steve's hand and gives it a long gulp.

"We could watch a movie, you know? I mean, if you weren't afraid of the couch," Javier teases him. Steve lets out a laugh.

"I'm not afraid of it, I'm kinda disgusted by it," he says, making a displeased face.

"Oh, come on!" Javier chirps, moving to the couch. "Just because you saw someone sleeping on it! I have fucked a ton of people here and yet you slept here without a word."

"I didn't know, okay?" Steve fires back.

"And what did you think? That I fucked them on the floor as if I were a hobo?"

"Don't you own a bed?" Steve is asking for information he doesn't really want to know.

"I don't like having strangers in my bedroom," he says simply.

"Fine," Steve scoffs and finishes the beer. Javier is pouring himself a glass of whiskey and choosing an old movie that's running on the TV. Steve brings his ass to the couch, next to Javier and flinches when he is seated. Javier pats him on the back.

"Good boy," he mocks.

Steve huffs and takes the glass Javier has in his hand. He takes a long sip from the strong drink and gives back the empty glass to Javier, who rolls his eyes and pours another round.

"I can't understand shit," Steve says about the movie on the TV, it's in Spanish.

"Welcome to Colombia, Murphy, here they speak Spanish if you haven't noticed," Javier makes fun of him.

" _ Me voy _ (I'm leaving)," Steve announces as he sits straight. After a moment, he slouches on the sofa again. "But first I'm finishing this," he says, and again, he takes Javier's glass from his hand. "Maybe Connie left me because she knew I'll become an alcoholic."

Javier massages his back.

"Alcohol is the least of your problems, mate."

Steve rests his body in the back of the couch, mirroring Javier, and their shoulders almost touch. He looks to Javier and he's already watching him. Javier's face is unreadable, Steve can't tell if he's mad, or tired, or bored, or bored of him.

Suddenly, Steve feels the need to unbutton the first two buttons of his shirt, he's starting to sweat. The windows are open, so maybe it is the alcohol. He swallows hard and notices how Javier's eyes are fixed on his Adam's apple.

"Javi?" he breathes.

"Mmmhhh?"

Steve puts his hand on Javier's leg and waits, Javier does nothing so after a few seconds he starts moving it up to Javier's hip. He can hear how Javier holds his breath.

"Is this okay?" Steve whispers.

Javier doesn't answer with words but Steve takes the grunt he has let escape as a response.

"Do you want me to stop?" Steve asks, in a low voice, because in his mind, if he speaks it out loud it will disappear.

Javier's breaths become more and more heavy as Steve's hand moves. He closes his eyes and Steve moves his hand higher over Javier's jeans.

"But you must," says Javier with a husky voice, "stop," he grabs Steve's hand and pushes it to his knee where Steve placed it in the first place.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, ashamed and pats Javier's knee before retiring his hand. "I wasn't thinking clearly, I'm leaving now," he apologises, getting up.

Javier has sunk his face in his hands.

"Wait, Steve," he says when the blonde reaches to open the door. He half turns to face Javier, he's standing up next to the couch. He takes a deep breath. "Do you want to stay... Over?" He adds the last word pointing with his head to his left.

Steve is usually slower than Javier in life in general but he breaks his own record as it takes him a few seconds to register what he has just said and to follow with his gaze in the direction Javier's head is pointing. Fuck. He blinks hazily.

"You mean there?" He asks, pointing to the door to the only room in that house he doesn't know yet. Javier huffs and puts his hands on his hips.

"Unless you want to sleep here," he makes a gesture towards the sofa behind him, "yes."

"I- Javi, umm."

"It's okay if you want to leave... Just wanted you to consider it," Javier says, moving a few steps in Steve's direction.

Steve is still at the same spot. He blinks.

"Murphy, you need to react, I'm not getting any younger here," Javier rushes him.

Steve nods. "Yes, I stay," he walks towards Javier. "But I didn't bring my pajamas."

Javier's bedroom is quite impersonal, the furniture matches the rest of the house but there is no decoration. The only signal of someone actually using it is the seat in a corner where there is a pile of clean laundry and there are a couple of Javier's ties hanging from its backrest. The bed is made and the wardrobe is closed, all pristine. But it smells of Javier in there and it makes Steve feel at ease.

Ha waits for Javier to brush his teeth and he comes out of the bathroom with a brand new toothbrush for him.

When Steve is back in the room, Javier is already in bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and his legs are covered by the sheets.

"Should I-?" Steve gestures to his clothes.

"I won't look," Javier jokes.

"Fucker." Steve strips until he's in his underwear and gets quickly into bed.

Javier says goodnight and turns off his bedside lamp.

Neither of them are sleeping and they know it.

"Javi?"

"What?"

No answer.

"Javi?"

" _ ¿Qué? _ (What?)"

" _ Gracias  _ (thank you)."

"For what now?"

"For not leaving me alone," Steve says, turning to his side to look at Javier even though the room is dark.

"Don't get all sappy on me, Murphy," Javier warns him but he turns to face Steve.

He tries to get closer to Javier's face but he stops him by grabbing his shoulder.

_ Fuck _ , thinks Steve. The last thing he wants is to ruin his friendship with his partner. But the words coming out from Javier's mouth are not the rejection he was expecting:

"I don't want you doing things out of spite," he says, pushing him until he's on his back.

Between the alcohol in his blood and the sorrow in his heart, Steve isn't capable of fully understanding Javier's words.

"I'm sorry," Steve mutters.

"No need to be, pal," Javier comforts him, dragging him by the shoulder again so Steve is over his side and they are face to face.

"Javi, I'm-,"

"Don't say you're sorry again," Javier warns him but his voice is warm.

Steve fights for his eyes to stay open, even though there is not much to see in the darkness.

"No, I need you to know that I may be heartbroken now, but I'm not acting out of rage, I have wanted to do this for a while."

Javier's right hand is still in his shoulder and his nails dig in his skin. His breaths are heavy. He waits for a moment for Steve to elaborate, but he doesn't so Javi says:

"And by 'doing this' you mean?"

"This. Just-" Steve gestures with a heavy hand between them.

"For fuck's sake, Murphy, I need you to be more specific," Javier pleas and Steve believes he can hear desperation behind his words.

He's drunk and exhausted. He doesn't know how to put his feelings into words but he knows that if he was sober he couldn't articulate his feelings either. His only comfort is that Javi has always been able to read him like an open book, he hopes this time he reads him as well.

"Being with you, you holding me, well, kind of," he chuckles and leans the side of his face into Javier's hand. "I don't want to frighten you off, but I don't know anymore. I'm not making any sense, sorry."

"If you say you're sorry one more time, I'm kicking you out of bed, okay?" Javier states, shaking him by the shoulder a little.

"No, please, don't," Steve whimpers, crawling towards Javi on the bed. He isn't rejected this time, Javier moves a little for him to fit better. "Hold me, Javi," he asks.

"I hate you," Javier says, sliding the hand he has on Steve's shoulder and hugging him, dragging the blonde's body until their chests almost touch. He hides his face in the crook of Steve's neck.

After a few minutes of silence, Steve huffs.

"What now?" Javier asks him.

"I didn't even know I liked men, a man, you know," Steve's words come out in a hurry.

"I fucking hate you, Murphy," Peña says, but he's chuckling.

"I need to stop embarrassing myself." Steve's voice gets more and more sleepy.

"You do, and we need to sleep," Javier says but Steve is already snoring when he finishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been the hardest part to write, so it would be very cool if you'd let me know if you liked it!
> 
> PS. Smut is coming!


	4. IV

Javier wakes up the next morning in a weird position. All of his body is chilling, except for his feet which are tangled with Steve's under the duvets he stole from him during the night. This is how the fucker appreciates being invited to stay over. Javier won't do that again. Or maybe he will, he realises when he sees the little funny gestures Steve does with his mouth and nose over the drool pillowcase.

He carefully disentangles his feet from Steve's and gets up, stretching. He does not have a clear idea of how he should wake the other man up since he apparently didn't hear the alarm clock. Javier opens the blinds and waits for Steve to wake up but he just rolls over (rolling himself up some more with the duvet) and keeps sleeping. Javier decides he can wait until after his shower to wake Steve, so he goes and takes a shower. Steve's still snoring softly when he comes out of the bathroom. Will he sleep forever? Javier is not used to having people to wake up the morning after, he usually says goodbye immediately after the act or they leave in the middle of the night as the ghosts they are for him.

He's not the kind of person that needs breakfast to survive but he supposes he can cook some eggs and make coffee while he waits for Steve to wake up. He also could leave for work and let the other man manage his own schedule, but he decides he will give him another twenty minutes to rise. Twenty minutes are enough for making coffee and eggs, aren't they?

"Who would dare to say that Javier Peña is the kind of man that makes you breakfast?" Steve says jokingly from the bedroom door. Apparently, the smell woke him up because Javier was careful not to make noise with the pots. Steve pads barefoot into the kitchen, still wearing only his underwear and walks directly in Javier's direction. He panics because he's not sure what is the right thing to do in a case like that and because he's afraid Steve tries to kiss him so he sends him to shower.

Steve looks offended.

"I showered last night," he protests, smelling his armpits.

"You stink,  _ emotionally _ ," Javier informs him, waiting for his heartbeat to slow down before cracking the eggs in the pan.

"This is the reason because everybody hates you," Steve complains and goes to the bedroom to gather his clothes. He goes to his apartment to shower and Javier estimates he has a few more minutes that will allow him to make toasted bread.

Steve is back in a record time with his wet hair slicked back and looking like today is his first day of school.

"You made toast for me, too," he coos and Javier huffs.

"I made toast for  _ us _ , Murphy," Javier says, putting the coffee pot on the kitchen bar.

"Thank you, Javi," he says with his dumb smile and Javier hates him more every passing second.

Fortunately for Javier, Steve doesn't try to make any physical contact and they have breakfast in comfortable silence. Steve hums happily when he tries the eggs and that melts Javier's heart and he wants to wake up to that every single day.

"Do you want me to drive to work?" Steve offers.

"And who said we are going together to work?" Javier teases and Steve snorts.

Steve is unusually quiet on their way to work but Javier doesn't know what would be appropriate saying so he tags along.

Their day at work is more of the same: paperwork, forms, satellite photos, useless phone calls and so. They have a meeting with the head of the search block and the Ambassador, and Javier needs to elbow Steve on the ribs for him to stop fucking stare at him.

"Stop," he spits in Steve's direction.

"Doing what?"

"Looking at me," Javier mutters.

"I wasn't," Steve retorts but his cheeks turn pink. Javier hates him.

Javier practically runs after Steve at the end of the meeting, dragging him by the arm to an isolated corner, partially hidden by a cabinet.

"I didn't mean to talk to you like that," he explains. "But we need to be careful here. People would talk."

Steve lets out a muffled laugh.

"Careful why, Javi? Because we shared a bed once? We live in the same building, we always arrive here together, what's the matter?"

Javier blinks because Steve has a point.

"I don't know, really, I panicked in the meeting," Javier says.

"I know, I'm sorry."

They remain in silence for a moment beside the cabinet. Steve arranges his tie and takes a step to leave but Javier stops him by grabbing his wrist.

"Do you want to have lunch... Out?" Javier asks in a low voice, not looking at him in the eye.

Steve wriggles his hand until Javier lets it go.

"I don't think so, Javi. People would talk, you know?" He says with a mischievous smile and leaves him alone.

Steve doesn't come back to his desk. Javier spends the afternoon mentally telling himself not to go after him, he could have been assigned to a mission or something. The blonde makes an appearance ten minutes before leaving work, he seems okay.

"Where have you been?" Javier spits in a low voice, piling papers and files.

"Smoking," is Steve's nonchalant answer. He's sitting sprawled on his chair.

"For four hours?"

Steve shrugs and gets up.

"If you want a ride home, I'll be here in five minutes," the blonde informs him.

"Where are you going?" Javier must stop asking questions.

"To smoke," says Steve, already on the stairs.

"I'm driving this time," Javier announces when Steve comes back to the office looking for him. He expects for Steve to argue but he simply hands him the car keys.

He drives them out of the city, to the place they once met with Navegante. Steve doesn't ask questions until Javier goes off of the byroad and turns the engine off.

"Well?" Steve finally asks when Javier looks at him.

"Well, what are you playing at?" Javier asks.

"Playing?"

"Lying to me," Javier explains. "You weren't just out smoking this afternoon. You don't have to give me all the details about your life, but please Steve, don't lie to me because I can't deal with that."

Steve sighs and pulls his seat backwards to stretch his legs. He looks out of the car window. There is a storm coming. Javier keeps talking because he's desperate and if he doesn't let all out he will explode:

"If you feel uncomfortable or ashamed for what happened last night, I totally get it, okay? You don't need to avoid me, just say it and I'll leave you alone."

"I am," Steve says and Javier's heart breaks a little. "I am uncomfortable, yes. For what I said because it's new to me and I'm not sure how to feel about it, to be honest. But I'm not ashamed, by any means."

Steve finally looks at Javier. Javier is still processing his words when he continues:

"I said I like a man, and it's true but it doesn't mean I'm not afraid or confused." Steve closes his eyes.

"Just to know if we're on the same page when you say you like a man, you mean me, right?" Javier's voice comes out a little choked.

"No, I mean Pablo Escobar, you idiot," Steve snorts without opening his eyes.

"Could you please look at me?" Javier practically pleads.

"Of course it is you, Javi, who else? I was in your bed when I said it."

Javier sighs in relief.

"I just wanted to verify, okay?"

"This afternoon I was out smoking, indeed. Smoking and talking with Connie on the phone," Steve finally confesses and Javier surprise must have been reflected in his face because Steve immediately says: "Don't make that face, she's my only friend besides you."

"And what did you tell her?" Javier asks, unsure.

"All of this," Steve gestures between them. "She said something the day she left that made me think she knew what was happening before I even realised."

"And what did she say?" Javier rushes Steve to talk.

A bolt of lightning hits the top of the hill to their right and immediately after a thunder breaks the sky over them.

“I still need time to process what she said," Steve says. "But I'll tell you when I did, okay?"

And as much as Javier wants to know what they talked about, he doesn't want to press Steve. After all, Connie is still his wife and Steve loves her. Whichever is the feeling Steve has towards him it must be minimal compared to what he feels for Connie, and Javier isn't jealous, he gets it, Connie is lovable and he doesn't have any negative feelings towards her.

What makes Javier jealous is the feeling that maybe he won't find a companion as loyal and lovely as Connie, someone who wants to share his miserable life and eat the shitty bolognese he makes.

"Let's go home," Steve asks when the firsts raindrops start hitting the windshield.

Javier drives through the city slowly, there's something about rainy days that gives him a peaceful feeling.

"Do you want to grab something to eat later?" Javier offers and Steve shrugs.

He stops that car by a bakery and buys a bag of typical Colombian biscuits he knows Steve likes and he throws it on Steve's lap.

When they finally reach their building and Javier starts walking to his door, Steve walks with him but before Javier opens his door, Steve says:

"I need to put my head in order, do you mind if I stay at my apartment tonight?" Steve bites his lip.

It takes Javier by surprise, unjustifiably because they're not a couple and they don't have any kind of agreement to spend every night together.

"No, it's okay. Ring me if you need something," Javier says, patting him on the shoulder and entering his house.

He has just closed the door when there's a knock in it. It's Steve, obviously. He enters the house quickly.

"Listen, the order I need to put in my head has nothing to do with you or with what I said last night, okay?" Steve explains in a rush, leaning against the closed door.

"It's okay, I'm not questioning you," Javier reassures him.

"I don't want you to believe that I regretted saying it or that I'm avoiding you, I just need some time."

"Is it related to what you have spoken with your wife?" Javier can't help but ask.

"Please don't call her that, Javi. I know she still is my wife but... Please let's call her by her name," Steve demands and Javi is surprised.

"Okay, but you didn't answer my question. Do you need time due to something you talked with her?"

"Yes," Steve sighs. "But it's not what you're thinking about."

"Well," Javier says, tired. "I'll see you at work tomorrow, then."

"Javi?" Steve's voice comes out like a prayer.

Javier looks up at him, full of hope.

Steve opens his mouth to say something but he closes it after a few moments. Javier looks down again, wishing for Steve to just go and leave him alone. He's startled when Steve sneaks his arms around him and holds him for dear life. At first, he just manages to pat Steve's back but then he realises the beautiful opportunity he is given to hold him back and to get some physical contact he craves so much.

Steve's fingers are digging on the back of his leather jacket and all that Javi can feel is him, and all that he can smell is Steve's hair and his perfume. He wants to stay like that forever, feeling safe in his arms with the loud thunderstorm roaring outside. There is no narco shit that could reach him there, there are no dead children nor people being thrown from choppers nor massacred police officers as long as he's surrounded by Steve's arms. But he's perfectly conscious that the embrace can't last forever and that the shit doesn't cease existing just because he has found a place where he wants to stay.

Steve shifts his arms and loosens his grip. Javier puts his hands on Steve's shoulders and takes a step apart from him. His face, usually always giving up what he's thinking, is unreadable now.

"You better get going," Javier says against his will to throw his arms around his neck again.

"Javi, promise me you will be here tomorrow," Steve asks.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises.

"I'll pick you up, okay? Don't leave without me."

"I won't," he says, opening the door for Steve to leave because if he keeps promising things he'll end up promising something he won't be able to keep.

It's way past midnight when finally Javier can get some sleep. He spent the night turning around in his bed, remembering last night Steve was there asking him to hold him, telling Javier he likes him. The pillow he used still smells like him.

Being in love sucks, he thinks. All of what happens feels incredibly intense and the heart is one weak organ so easy to break and he does not want to have his in pieces but it's too late to make that decision (if it was a decision in the first place).

He doesn't want to disappoint Steve as he did with Lorraine. But Lorraine happened in another life, to another Javier that's not the one lying alone on his bed tonight.

He wakes up the next morning and decides he could wait for Steve with breakfast. The apartment the DEA provided him with came all equipped with all sorts of home appliances he has never used, between them, a waffle maker and a recipe book. He has the time and he needs the distraction.

As promised, Steve shows up at his door to pick him up for work and Javier won't lie, he feels relieved.

"What's that smell?" he asks, peering inside.

"I needed a distraction," Javier excuses himself. "Do you want to try them? I'm almost finished."

"Thought you'd never ask," Steve jokes. "Do you want me to make coffee?"

"Did you sleep well?" Javier asks this to mask his need to ask  _ 'Did you put your head in order? Are you leaving me yet?' _

"I don't, but I spent the night thinking."

Javier hums in assent. He doesn't want to sound too eager.

"Do you want to hear what I talked about with Connie yesterday?" Steve offers after what seems an eternity to Javier.

"Yes," he simply answers.

"I told her how I was feeling and she already knew, of course," Steve huffs and starts vomiting words. "And she wants the best for me,  _ for us _ . She said that we should take it slow and see what happens. And we both should quit smoking and drinking that much," Steve finishes his sentence looking at Javier.

Javier's heart swells with love for Connie... And for the man he has in front of him.

"Javi, you were right yesterday. We need to be careful at work. I don't think cops are too tolerant with someone that besides a gringo is a  _ fag _ ."

"Hey, don't use that word, please,” Javier shushes him and dares to take his hand in his. “I know it's hard but you don't need to label yourself, you know?"

"I was just saying," Steve says.

"We need to be careful, yes, but that's all. You don't need to change your life for this," Javier comforts him. Steve looks at him and smiles with his dumb smile Javier loves so much.

"Do you want to have dinner out tonight?" Steve asks.

"You haven't even finished your breakfast, Murphy," Javier teases.

Steve rolls his eyes.

"How come you never answer my questions? I said I like you and you didn't say you like me back. I ask you out and you don't answer. I don't think I can keep up with you, Peña."

Javier blushes.

"I made you waffles," he offers.

"And?"

"What other proof do you need?"

"Proof of what?" Steve asks and he's determined to make Javi say it.

"That I like you back," Javier says, looking at his plate. 

"That's enough for now," Steve says and cups his face with his hand across the kitchen bar.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it?
> 
> Please leave a comment below ♥
> 
> PS. I'm claveldelaire on Tumblr.


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